


The Woven Strings of Fate Part 2: Backroads

by TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone



Series: The Sorceress, The Witcher, The Bard and a Girl [10]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Dark Magic, Dove of the Morning, Guardian Trio, Lich Kings, Memories, Multi, Nightmares, The Nightingale, The Trio Divided, The Wolf - Freeform, and the Dove, dark tidings, the raven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22628740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone/pseuds/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone
Summary: Geralt has hidden himself from the rest of the Trio and Ciri, Jaskier needs to heal, Yennefer has sleepless nights and Ciri . . . Ciri tries for them all.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: The Sorceress, The Witcher, The Bard and a Girl [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584583
Comments: 26
Kudos: 118





	The Woven Strings of Fate Part 2: Backroads

The sword swung and sank an inch into wood, Geralt grunted and tugged the blade free, staring at the deep rend he'd made in the training dummy. He could spar with a student or Vesemir but he wanted to be alone. _Huh,_ he thought, _I always want to be alone_. The sun beat down on his head and he breathed out heavily, chucking the practice sword down on a pile that was waiting to be polished. He had certain privileges as one of the older Witchers there, he didn't need to busy his hands with inane tasks and chores. Geralt sat down and picked one of the blades out and started to polish it.

"Run out of things to do? It's only been a few months." A gruff voice said, a hint of amusement trailing the statement.

Geralt slowly looked up and silently regarded Vesemir, the oldest Witcher he knew or that there was, and said nothing. He wasn't being rude by remaining silent, Vesemir already knew answers to questions neither were asking.

Vesenir sat down next to him and plucked one of the swords Geralt had finished up, examining the blade then pointing at it, "missed a spot "

Geralt grumbled but didn't argue the point, simply picked it up and began again.

Vesemir breathed in, "this is probably the longest you've stayed here since you were little, Wolf, something out there got under your skin, didn't it? Something bothered you."

Geralt snorted, squinting at the bright sky instead of adjusting his pupils, "you assume I'm hiding?"

"I assume _nothing_." Vesemir muttered, folding his hands over his stomach then leaned forward, "here give us that spare rag."

Geralt watched the old Witcher examine a blade closely before he deemed to speak again, "you think I’m being a coward."

Vesemir didn't look up from eyeballing the edge of the sword he was occupied with, "Is that what I think? I don't remember calling you that. Tell me, Wolf, if you were hiding, why here? Certainly Kaer Morhen is a fortress and the pass is treacherous for those who don't know the way but that could easily describe so many much better manned and armed places. Why here?" He leaned to the side and regarded Geralt with a critical eye.

Geralt stared at his reflection in the sword blade and he opened his mouth to speak-

"Geralt." Vesemir said suddenly, looking at his oldest living pupil, "why do you look longingly over the mountains if you _are_ hiding? What's out there that both frightens and allures you all at once?"

Geralt couldn’t answer, something thorny and angry twisted his insides and made him click his mouth shut tightly and keep polishing the sword.

Vesemir said nothing and allowed the silence to carry a bit further.

* * *

The sun streamed in the window, lightly on the pillows and a tousled blonde head, there was a soft mumble as the mattress dipped under some weight and a hand slid over the hair, Jaskier grumbled and closed his eyes, “ . . . mmmmmtime is it?”

“Past midday,” A deep melodically baritone voice murmured, “Are you getting up some time this season, Blath que Shaente?”

Jaskier’s nose wrinkled as he squinted about, “Can I trouble you for a bath? I feel sticky.”

A soft chuckle, “Of course, my dandelion.”

Jaskier’s spine stiffened and he was awake and alert instantly, “Don’t . . . don't call me that, Owen.”

Guildmaster Ellowen ‘Owen’ Star cocked his head and frowned apologetically, “Ah, I am sorry, Jaskier, I forget myself.” He was a giant, dark man with angular, clever eyes, a dazzling smile and an insatiable lust for poetry.Ellowen sat back, swiping some of his long braids off his shoulder, they were dipped in perfumes and woven tightly so that he always smelled pleasantly of roses and held back by a decorated leather strap most times but now the locks were tucked back behind his delicately pointed ears, suggesting some close kinship with elves. They’d known each other for some time, it was mere chance that his halfling guild members had talked at length of seeing Jaskier that the wealthy Maester left his home in the far south and came here. He’d stayed with Jaskier all through the winter at Lord Yurgin’s hunting lodge, the happy Noble couple had forgone waiting for the wedding with Yurgin giving a loud, very proud proclamation at dinner one night that Moria was with child and he predicted a hale, hearty little girl, so the wedding happened before there was even a hint of a thaw then Jaskier went with Ellowen to Oxenfurt until the spring. he made quite a bit for a few lectures when he could be torm from the delights of the town proper.

Jaskier sighed, “It’s . . . it’s alright, just please-”

Ellowen held up a hand, “I understand. Say no more of things that trouble you, Jaskier, Blath que Shaente.”

 _Flower that Sings_. . . Jaskier had liked it very much when Ellowen had called him that, it was pretty and the compliment honored him greatly as to make him blush. He slowly stood and went to the mirror, looking at his reflection, “Owen, I’d like to bathe alone if that’s alright?”

“Of course, Jaskier.” Ellowen rose, smiling, “I would suggest a green today, something dark but not forest, hm?”

Jaskier looked at Ellowen and nodded, the tall man had a slight dusting of green makeup on his eyelids and decorating his cheekbones, it accentuated his skin colour and broad cheekbones beautifully, expertly. He nodded and smiled, "we’ll look rather fetching together. Shall I bring down one of my journals?"

"Would you?" Ellowen brightened up even more, flashing his dazzling smile and his eyes crinkled in the corners, "the one in the burnt orange leather perhaps? It has your poems about spring and given the warm weather, I feel it most appropriate. I'll be in the gardens with my fellows. Don't dally too long, hm?"

Jaskier watched Ellowen leave then he got up and walked to the bathtub, sitting on a low stool to wait for the water to be brought up. He swallowed, he'd been dreaming again which meant he isn't sleeping much which would in turn explain why he stayed in bed so late. He turned as servants knocked for entry, laden with steaming kettles. Jaskier faced a small looking glass on a vanity, he reached over for a small dish where a ring with a large misshapen stone sat, it was glowing ever so softly. The bard stared at it and started to sing softly to himself.

The song was sad, subdued, like a caged bird. He sang about the frightened wolf, about the dove in a tower, about the lonely raven in her nest and about the borrowed nightingale. He sang about the cries the dove gave as the wolf ran. The sleepless nights. The anger. The pain. The tears.

Jaskier broke off when he heard a loud snuffle behind him, he turned slightly and caught the serving girl wiping her eyes, "oh dear, I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't bothering you."

She blinked and wiped at her eyes, lashes spiky with tears, "oh no, Master bard, it's just… that song is so sad… why did the wolf leave if it hurt them?"

Jaskier frowned and looked at the ring, he carefully covered it with his hand, "I haven't the slightest clue. Please go, I'd like to get undressed."

The girl curtsied and retreated, closing the door behind her.

Jaskier slowly moved to the bath and slid into the water, hissing at the heat then breathing out shakily and moaning softly, "oh gods, that's heaven!" He sighed and settled into the water, frowning at the ceiling. He thought about Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri a lot… he talked to Yennefer and Ciri if they had the ring nearby, the soft glow showing that someone was holding their ring but Geralt never spoke and that was fine with Jaskier, "... perfectly fine." He swallowed.

After Geralt fled Vizima, Jaskier and Yennefer wrote the prophecy down and poured over it, apparently once it was heard by those meant to hear it, the prophecy could be shared, so they asked after how it could be interpreted, looking for clues in ballads and history books… a month and Ciri still cried herself to sleep while Jaskier or Yennefer or Nenneke tried to comfort her and finally… Jaskier had enough…

_"Where are you going?" Yennefer whispered from the bed, she was exhausted having taken her turn at getting up every few hours to soothe Ciri back to sleep._

_Jaskier frowned and stared at his bundle, "I've been offered some work in Lord Yurgin's court, I'm going to take it. I'm not abandoning you and Ciri, so don't look at me like that," Jaskier sat down, "and I'm not stealing away into the night. I can't sleep so I'm packing my things. They want to hire me until the wedding in the spring, then I'll come find you again."_

_Yennefer looked at him and her violet eyes were full of pain, "... don't leave her."_

_"I'm not." Jaskier said firmly, "but the money will run out, Yennefer, I have to help provide for … for what's left of us… "_

_Yennefer swallowed and sat up, pulling him back into bed, "here, we’ll brave insomnia together."_

_Jaskier didn't mean to cry into her bosom like a child, he didn't mean to hold her so tightly she winced, he didn't mean to beg her to wake him up from this nightmare and oh gods-_

"Why did he leave me?" Jaskier whispered, hugging his knees as he stared into the steaming water.

* * *

_"Geralt?" Jaskier hurried to grab the Witcher's arm as they trudged back to the horses, "what's wrong? I don't understand-"_

_Geralt stopped, "...of course you don't." His voice is so cold and sharp._

_Jaskier blinked slowly, "... don't you dare."_

_Geralt turned around, his eyes hard and his hands clenched at his sides, "you_ never _understand and do you know why?"_

_Yennefer blinked at him, "Geralt what are you-"_

_"Because things once more only involve you in the most peripheral sense!" Geralt shouted, "once more you are in the wrong place at the wrong time and you got involved in things that don't-"_

_Jaskier took a step closer, pointing a shaking finger at Geralt, "don't you_ dare _finish that sentence, Geralt of Rivia! I heard the prophecy too and I've still got my faculties!"_

_Geralt's eyes shifted as he tried another tactic and Jaskier knew what he was doing. He knew what the Witcher was trying to do. "You shouldn't even be here, what can a bard do in the face of a Lich King's army? Sing him a song? Cower behind your lute and what then? How does that serve us? You’re out of your element and you’ll get us ki-"_

_Yennefer quickly moved to Jaskiers side, "Geralt! Why are you-"_

_"Because he's going to run." Jaskier hissed, glaring at Geralt and stepping out of Yennefer’s protection, "he's going to run and hide his head in the sand like the_ coward _he is!" The bard took another menacing step forward, "you heard some scary, big bad things in that little prophecy, didn’t you, O Witcher? Now you're trying to get me angry enough to walk away, well you can't just-" and he stopped, narrowing his eyes, "this… this isn't the first time you've heard the words, is it? You've known what they were… I didn’t … I didn't lose the copy, did I, Geralt?"_

_Geralt was silent._

_Yennefer was furious but also silent._

_Jaskier pointed a now visibly-trembling finger at Geralt, "you lied_ _to me… you_ lied _to … to_ me _… " the bard, who threw his heart at whoever would hold it gaped at the Witcher brokenly, "about my_ role _in our … you knew I was part of it and you kept me at a distance… I'm the Nightingale and you knew that and you_ lied _." Jaskier staggered back a step, "she’s as much mine as she is yours and Yennefer's and you- … how long?"_

_"... I got the copy about four or five years ago." Geralt murmured, his voice tight and strained._

_Jaskier took another step back, blue eyes streaming with tears as his heart throbbed, "I was with you then! I could have helped! I could have done something! Why did you remain silent?"_

_"You thought you could outrun it," Yennefer snarled, "or change it or delay it by ignoring it? You try to take your anger out on us but it's you who fucked things up! You waited too long and now look what's happening!"_

_"I thought if we could just bide our time-" Geralt said, his voice trembling with anger and pain._

_"Consider our time bided then!" Yennefer shouted, "Bided and spent!"_

_"Then we have one choice." Geralt said grimly._

_Jaskier's anger evaporated and he shook his head, "don't… "_

_"I have to go." Geralt said finally, softly so they had to lean in, "I'm the one in the prophecy that betrays her, don't you see? As long as the wolf, the one that doesn't belong, stays, the more danger she's in! You're right, Jask, I… I lied, for good reason! But … yes to protect you, I-"_

_"Kept me in the dark, you mean." Jaskier snapped, tears spilling down his face, "Now you're leaving. Not just me or Yen but you're leaving Ciri. How, O Great Martyr, are you going to explain it to her?"_

_Geralt said nothing._

* * *

"Are you listening?"

"Hm? Oh yes, I'm sorry, do go on." Yennefer smiled pleasantly to the professor who was petitioning her for input on a study of magical something or other that she would probably agree to if for just something to occupy her time. 

The professor launched back into his speech and it soon sounded like the tedious buzz of a bumblebee.

Yennefer breathed in and sighed, "your proposal was, while _very_ long and overly flowery, very thorough. I will see what I can do, good day."

The man thanked her and bowed his way out.

Yennefer went to the window and stared at the birds flitting about at a feeder, she spied a little female cardinal, her drab brownish feathers and bright orange beak making her easy to identify. Yennefer murmured a spell to enhance her vision and scanned the trees, if the female was feeding then her mate wasn't far away. And sure enough, a bright flash of scarlet in the conifer branches, the male cardinal watching over his mate from a safe distance, "I spy something red."

The sorceress remained with Ciri in the school at Nenneke’s temple or Melitele’s temple or whoever the hell it belonged to. She didn’t care. Yennefer’s violet eyes scanned the forest but the cardinals moved on and the other birds were spooked away by something. A young doe, swollen with her fawn ready to be born. It was spring . . . 

Yennefer breathed in then out against the window pane before trying to open it a bit, just to see if the air was warm and sure enough, a gentle breeze ruffled her ebony curls and she could smell fresh earth . . . running water . . . the first crocuses poking through the late spring snow. Tears welled up in her eyes as her fingers reached down into her blouse and pulled out a ring with an ugly, misshapen and discoloured stone in the setting, it was glowing faintly but she didn’t put it on. Why when she’d spoken to Jaskier this morning and at that moment, that was all she could give anyone. She was exhausted, keeping up with her dove was hard work and she had been flying solo since . . . 

“ _Since_.” She said softly, not finishing the thought, Jaskier felt nothing but sorrow and heartache at the mention of a certain Witcher’s name but Yennefer felt anger . . . deep burning anger for the man that had stood there, lying and throwing painful words to try and lessen his own guilt. 

_That’s right,_ she thought to herself, rubbing the rough stone between her fingers, _because if Jaskier left first, then who could blame the noble, tragic hero for turning his sad head away and fleeing? Yes, Geralt, well played . . ._

And while Jaskier seemed completely fine with replacing a presence with temporary, fleeting distractions, Yennefer was too angry and in pain to accept anyone and anything else. The bard needed distraction, otherwise his songs turned to melancholy then fell silent, the tears were neverending, and he grew thin from not eating or sleeping. But Yennefer . . . her life was full of distraction, people tripped over themselves for the aid of a powerful sorceress and there was no shortage of potential paramours but . . . 

“It doesn’t satisfy.” Yennefer sighed with a finality, she slipped the ring back under her shirt and she turned to find something else to occupy her mind, all this remembering gave her a headache.

* * *

Ciri squealed and splashed into the puddle, laughing loudly while the other two children splashed after her, kicking up leaves and water droplets. The girl was helped to her feet and she turned to follow them when she stopped and stared openly at the sky as some birds flew overhead, returning for the change of the season. She stopped and stared until the birds were out of sight going the opposite direction they had come from, their destination ingrained within them by some force of nature, something unspoken that drove and guided them. She opted to stay outside by herself and let the sun dry her slippers and the hem of her dress, she had to wear one to the school because . . . well, because an adult said so. Ciri sat on a low bench and stretched her feet out for the sun to see. The girl looked up and waited to see if more birds would go by, “Spring’s here . . . “ She whispered, “Jask’s contract will be up and he’ll be home soon!” She smiled but it didn’t reach her ears like it used to and she looked back down at her hands, she didn’t want to see any stupid birds anymore . . . 

_“W-Why?” Ciri sobbed hours later, she’d asked this question to everyone at least twice and now she could see he was annoyed with her which hurt a lot._

_Jaskier was trying to be patient but his own eyes were red from being hastily wiped too much, “Because Geralt is a selfish, stupid coward, Ciri,” He whispered hoarsely as he held her, “He’s scared, he doesn’t know what to do and he’s decided that his fear means more than- . . . no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say things that come from pain . . . Geralt left because he’s afraid, that much is true, but he’s afraid that if he stays, something bad will happen. He thinks he can stop it or delay it or something if he stays away.”_

_Ciri didn’t ask anymore questions because the ones that she wanted to ask didn’t have answers she liked much. She didn’t think any answers would sound nice following those particular questions yet her lips moved slightly and she heard her voice croak it out, “Doesn’t . . . doesn’t he love me? Wouldn’t I be safest with him? He’s a Witcher . . . “_

_Jaskier didn’t answer, he just cuddled her and held her tighter, his chest shaking._

Ciri stared at her hands then frowned, what was it that would frighten a Witcher? She’d asked that a lot too without getting straight answers. Oh she was told the prophecy and she understood the words but the meanings were a bit trickier. She’d thought it was stupid at first and perhaps a cruel joke but the grim looks on Jask and Yen’s faces turned her bitter laugh into an anguished sob.

“ _He thinks he’ll bring about your . . . well . . . your . . . “_

Ciri shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to clear it with meditation like Geralt had shown her before. She breathed in, then out, in again, out again, in . . . out . . . she felt herself calming and relaxing under the warm sun.

* * *

Geralt stared at the ring as he sat up on one of the crumbling balustrades at Kaer Morhen, his eyes narrowed slightly in the bright sunlight instead of focusing his pupils to slits as he held the chain up in front of his face, his elbow resting on his knee and at the end of the chain was a ring with an ugly stone set in it. Three rings . . . he never wore his . . . not even when they were apart because he didn’t need to then, someone was always with him, someone always had one anyway so . . . so what . . . what was the point?

The ring glowed, someone was wearing theirs and trying to communicate, if he strained his hearing just a touch he would be able to hear the hissing whisper of the spell working as the stone glowed and then vibrated making Geralt flinch. That meant it was _him_ they were trying to-

He tucked it back in his shirt and squeezed his eyes shut, he stood and leaned on the rough, pitted stones and looked out on the pass, he could smell spring, could hear the rushing of melting snow making its way to the base of the mountain, could see the animals stirring between the trees as the sun warmed the world and it woke. Tears were in Geralt’s eyes and he grit his teeth angrily, then Geralt threw his head back and screamed, the sound ripping through him violently and with so much force that his fingers whited against the stone in the effort of holding himself upright. He screamed until the tendons and muscles in his neck bulged, until his head hurt, until his throat ached, and the veins in his forehead stood out in sharp relief, until some birds were flushed out of the undergrowth far below him and took to the sky. Geralt stopped screaming and staggered back, “No!” He shouted in defiance at the bright blue sky, “No! Geralt, you’re a Witcher! Geralt of Rivia, you do _not_ feel! You do not have emotions! You don’t have feelings! You have memories of _memories_ of emotions, nothing more!” He swallowed, the ring vibrated and he leaned back, “You . . . You are _not_ human . . . “

“That conclusion needed all that noise to come to you, did it?”

Geralt didn’t even bother to act surprised as he sat back down, resting his elbows on his knees and staring down at his boots.

“You certainly talk to yourself more than you’re willing to talk to me lately.” Vesemir sat down on the steps with a grunt and looked out at the mountains, “Why are you hi-”

“Don’t ask me that again.” Geralt said softly, “None of my answers would satisfy you.”

“How about the truth then?”

Geralt lifted his head and sighed, “ . . . I’m not hiding.”

“But you are afraid of something-”

“I’m not afraid of any _thing_ ,” Geralt shook his head, “It’s not an enemy or obstacle, it isn’t a puzzle or problem, it’s . . . it’s myself . . . what I’m capable of and . . . I’m afraid of that.”

“You’ve been given something to think about,” Vesemir stroked his short beard and leaned forward, “Wolf?”

Geralt felt something inside himself shift unpleasantly at the familiar nickname, “Hm?”

“Tell it to me. You worry me.”

Geralt didn’t hesitate to recite the words, then when he finished he took a slow breath, “ . . . I already knew what they meant, the first time I heard them, I knew.”

“Did you hear what they _said_ or what they _meant_?” Vesemir asked, “Prophecies, like riddles, aren’t always so straight forward.”

“I bring about the Final Fall, I _fail_ .” Geralt snapped bitterly, “I’m the one that betrays Ciri and I choose . . . I choose a lesser evil. Dispelling spells require destroying the source . . . Ciri is a Source . . . a powerful magical conduit . . . only at the time I initially read the words, I thought it was an object, I thought I would have to go into some crypt or necropolis and destroy some object that linked whatever the shadows were to this plane but the words say ‘she’ and ‘her’ instead of ‘it’ . . . and I realized that night I would have to make a choice. I destroyed the parchment so no one would question me and I chose . . . I chose the lesser evil, I was going to fulfill the prophecy my own way and spare the dove, whoever it was, such a heavy burden but then- . . . but then- . . . “ He looked helplessly at Vesemir, “I _saw_ her . . . standing dirty and afraid in the thicket, I still have no idea what drew me there, and as I stood there staring at her and her at me, I couldn’t do it . . . “

“So that’s where you’ve been these last few years . . . “ Vesemir murmured.

Geralt tilted his head back, “ . . . I was prepared to do something that filled me with revulsion and then she ran into my arms and it all felt like as long as- . . . but then I knew all the words, I knew what would happen but I couldn’t tear myself away from her, I couldn’t escape her eyes and her touch, how desperately she clung to me and begged me with every breath to stay, to protect and . . . _to love_ . . . Now I’m staying away. The one that doesn’t fit, doesn’t belong, a wolf in the company of birds . . . A wolf has no business around a dove . . . “

Vesemir leaned forward and regarded Geralt, “If you could see how much pain is in your eyes right now . . . “

Geralt didn’t say anything, the ring shook again and he ignored it, “I would throw myself from this wall today if I thought it could keep her safe.”

“But you don’t just in case.” Vesemir said softly, “Just in case she needs you . . . but I think you need her more. Birds and wolves don’t mix in the wild, unless their carrion eaters, but that’s birds and wolves, Geralt, you are a man and she is a child, that is all. She’s a Source, so you suspect or say or however you found that out, and you are a Witcher, but when the rest is stripped away and you are both left to your bare framing, you are a man and she is a child. Moreover, she is _your_ child, Geralt, by Fate, by Destiny, or by the will of some gods somewhere, however it happened, it _did_ and now what are you going to do about it?”

Geralt didn’t answer as the spring thaw took full control of the mountain. The passes were opening, the trails were clearing, and a choice _had_ to be made.

* * *

_Twelve . . . twelve thrones . . . ten occupied by rigid, unmoving statues . . . no, not statues, skeletons . . . corpses! Their death masks cracked and jaws held shut with leather thongs, eyeholes punched in with eerie red light emanating from them . . . bent, tarnished golden armor and crowns . . . black death shrouds . . ._

_One turns it’s head, parts of its skull visible beneath the hood . . . a voice like two pieces of rough wood scraping against each other fills the chamber that is suddenly full of sightless eye sockets and rotting skeletons of hounds, horses and men,_ **_Two remain . . . two remain . . . as the spring thaws the earth, so too shall two more graves upturn . . . two more break open and two shall complete the twelve . . ._ **

_Another stood and pointed his sword at a robed figure at their feet,_ **_Not fast . . . enough!_ **

_“Please be patient Your Majesties,” The figure said in a dull, commanding voice despite how his hands shook under the robe, “The process is not swift nor simple, it requires a great deal of planning and time and I fear that we-”_

**_Perhaps,_ ** _another, his death mask was cracked down the middle exposing his nasal passages,_ **_your brethren . . . they have forgotten?_ **

_“My kings, I assure you-”_

**_We are two short . . . two short and time is running out . . . the Guardian Trio are divided! Now is the time to strike!_ ** _A third roared, getting to his feet, his crown was a tangled mess of what might have once been intricate braids of gold wire and ivy leaves,_ **_Why do we . . . tarry here . . . in this grotto . . . ?_ **

**_Divided but . . . still strong . . ._ ** _This one had the lower half of his mask missing, his brown teeth held tightly together with the leather strap under his chin_ **_I have seen it . . . While the child . . . the Dove of the Morning . . . was not able to . . . stop me . . . the Trio did . . ._ **

_“My kings,” The cloaked figure rose, his face still obscured, “The Dark Ones can contend with them, you shall see! We will bring forth the last-. . . wait . . . “ He looked around, his hand clutching at something around his neck, “We are being watched . . . “_

_The first lich to speak rose to his feet and turned his head, his red eyes glowing ominously in the darkness, his jaws pried open making the strap creak and stretch,_ **_Perhaps . . . a memory . . . will suffice, Dove?_ **

_The jaws continued to open until the strap snapped and the lich king let out a horrible shriek._

* * *

The scream shook the room, but not with magical force, the simple pitch and abruptness of it was enough to stop anyone in their tracks.

Yennefer flew out of bed and down the hall, there were students huddling in the halls looking frightened and one of the matrons was trudging from her room but the sorceress shooed them all away and slipped in the door.

Ciri was sitting upright in her bed, her mouth wide open and her eyes squeezed shut, she leaned forward clutching the duvet at her waist and then drew a breath and let out a sob, “N-No . . . No! . . . M-Make it stop!”

“Ciri!” Yennefer sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed the girl’s shoulders, shaking her lightly, “Ciri, it’s just a dream, it-”

“No!” Ciri cried out and convulsed then her eyes opened and the blue shifted to a bright emerald green before sifting back to blue, she looked at Yennefer and started to cry, “N-No . . . I saw them! I heard them! And then . . . I _remembered_ something . . . “

Yennefer held perfectly still, Ciri’s lack of memory had never been explored much beyond surface probing, it did not do to try and force a mind to remember. One had to be patient, resigned to the person never remembering at the risk of permanent damage..

“Darkness . . . “ Ciri whispered as she allowed herself to be pulled into Yennefer’s arm, “Then faces . . . but . . . but . . . they’re obscured by dark hoods . . . they don't talk to me, they don’t touch me without gloves or long poles . . . I don’t have a name . . . I’m . . . I’m just ‘the Source’ . . . what does it mean?”

“I don’t know.” Yennefer whispered truthfully, holding the girl tightly, “I don’t know.”

“When’s Jask coming back?” The girl asked suddenly, she needed them together and no matter how much she would take Yen’s ring and shout Geralt’s name into it, he never answered.

“Tomorrow or the day after next, we might get some rain.” Yennefer smoothed the girl’s blonde hair and closed her eyes, she knew that Ciri was asking after more than just Jaskier, but she’d never once asked when the Witcher would be back . . . which suited Yennefer just fine for the time being . . . 

* * *

Jaskier finished packing and was about to turn and leave when Ellowen appeared next to him, “I brought you something.”

Jaskier was handed a small, soft leather bound notebook that had a dandelion tooled into it, the bard smiled, “Thank you.”

“I know I can’t convince you to come back with me or to stay longer, so fill that up for me and I’ll be a happy man.” Ellowen kissed Jaskier’s forehead lightly, “Although I wish I _could_ -”

Jaskier started as a hand stroked the seat of his trousers, “Owen . . . “ 

The hand withdrew, “But I knew what this was already,” Ellowen stepped back, “I wish I could hold a place in your heart like whoever it was that broke it.”

“It didn’t break, that’s the problem,” Jaskier sat down to lace up his boot, “I’ve had my heart broken before, let me tell you! But it didn’t break this time, it didn’t shatter either, no . . . they all just took pieces with them and _that_ is not something I’m used to.” He shifted to grab his other boot, “If it had been broken, I’d move on, find someone to help mend it then carry on for a while until I hand it to someone else to hold. The cycle repeats.”

“But not this time.” Ellowen observed, sitting next to him, “You tried to mend it with me and it didn’t take.”

“Never had parts missing before, can’t patch a broken jug if the bottom is gone.” Jaskier closed his eyes softly, “I have to go home.”

“I know.” Ellowen nodded, “If you ever need mending again, I’d be happy to oblige, as always.”

Jaskier smiled sadly, looking at the merchant, “I’ll keep that in mind, it’s nice to have someone I can trust to fill the role . . . I am only sorry I don’t feel more.”

Ellowen laughed heartily, “I have two wives and fourteen children for that! If I want more from love, I can go home and get it!” He leaned over and put their foreheads together, mirroring Jaskier’s sad smile, “It was _you_ that needed me, Jaskier, Blath que shaente, it is _you_ that needed a warm bed, a gentle caress and an open ear. And I provided all of that expecting nothing but your poetry and voice in return.”

Jaskier smiled a bit less sadly now, “You are a veritable slut for poetry.”

Ellowen threw his head back and laughed, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut, “Well, can you blame me? Ah, such verse, such elegance of the tongue! Reminds me of my mother and her people.”

“Your Elder speech has gotten noticeably better since last we saw each other as well.” Jaskier stood up, grabbing for his pack. They stood staring at each other and Jaskier swallowed, “Ellowen . . . I do long for you when we are apart but . . . I _burn_ and _ache_ for them . . . “

Ellowen’s smile became sad again, “Are you sure you don’t want an escort? It’s a long road back.”

“Yennefer is going to portal me. I’ve been gone for months, she’ll be wanting me to-”

Ellowen held up a hand, eyebrow cocked mischievously, “Say no more, I too have women impatiently waiting for my return home . . . it is a good thing there are two of the tiny things, getting undressed alone takes me some time.”

“Because you wear so many.” Jaskier quipped and he slid the ring on his finger, whispering to it, “ _Yennefer. Yennefer. Yennefer. Yen-”_

A portal opened next to him and he kissed Ellowen one more time, the big man wiped at his eyes, smudging his makeup across his dark skin, “Farewell until we meet again, Master Dandelion.”

“Farewell Master Star.” And he was gone.

* * *

“Salutations one and a- oof!” Jaskier staggered and grimaced, “Um, bit forceful, Yen?”

Yennefer kept holding Jaskier by the lapels and kissed him before carefully releasing him and she leaned back, “Sorry, Jaskier, but I’ve missed you and I'm exhausted so the portal wasn't going to last . . . Ciri is not well.”

Jaskier sobered immediately, “What do you mean? Where is she?”

“Nightmares. She's in her room. And she . . . Jask, she remembered something, something bad.” Yennefer murmured.

Jaskier didn’t ask anymore questions and went right to Ciri’s room, he knocked on the door and leaned in, “Hello, my sweet bodkin.”

Ciri looked up, her tired little face brightened up some and she hurried over to him, it was slower than last time and her feet dragged a bit, “Jask!”

"Oof, why you can't be Ciri! You're much too tall! More of a fine rapier than a bodkin now!" Jaskier held her then lifted her up in his arms and pressed his nose into her shoulder, “Lady Moira sends her love.”

“I missed you.”

“And I missed you something dreadful!” Jaskier set her down.

“You smell like roses, new cologne?” Ciri asked, tilting her head.

Jaskier’s cheeks flushed and he snorted, “Ah, no, no, just something lingering from where i was. Shall I tell you about it? I met back up with our mutual friends from the Prosperous Pig Guild.”

“Hren, Sonny, and Correy?” Ciri asked, hopping up, “Did they ask after Dove?”

“I only saw them very briefly but I did see their boss, Guildmaster Ellowen Star, a great giant of a man, half elf too! His mother was a very powerful warrior!' Jaskier smiled broadly, holding out something for Ciri, "here you are, Ciri, I got this in Oxenfurt!"

Ciri eagerly opened the brown paper parcel and pulled out a book made of soft black leather, the pages were thick and- "blank?" Ciri frowned, "the book is broken or is it magic?"

"Neither, you silly," jaskier grinned widely, "it's a field book! I and Yennefer both have one, it's for making notes while you're out and about! Write about monsters you see, of places and people of importance, doodle or write dirty limericks in the margins!" He chuckled wistfully, "the possibilities are quite endless and here, these pencils need only be sharpened on a knife so you wont need a quill or ink pot! See? Clever!"

Ciri snorted and hugged him, "thank you, Jask! I'll start working straight aways!"

Jaskier pressed his cheek to her head and closed his eyes, "I'm sorry I went away for so long… I didn't want to leave but …"

"Your heart hurt." Ciri whispered hoarsely, "I know… I understand, I'm so happy you’re home though!"

Jaskier gave her an extra squeeze, "I'll take you to Oxenfurt some day, when you're older."

"You will do no such thing! Stuffy professors on one side then endless frivolity on the other? What will become of her!" Nenneke stepped into the doorway, a wry smile on her lips, "Master Dandelion."

"Mother Nenneke as I live and breathe," Jaskier doffed his cap and bowed so low his nose almost touched the floor, "you look ravishing! The color in your cheeks and twinkling in your eye are the very picture of health! Not to mention your exceptional beauty-"

"That's quite enough foolishness, " Nenneke said severely, "Yennefer wants to speak with you. Now."

Jaskier gulped and looked sadly at Ciri, "ah time to go pay penance for my many sins! Remember me, Ciri, whisper my name to the southern wind on rainy days so all will- ow! Nenneke, let go of my ear!"

Ciri howled with laughter then sobered and excused herself to go do prayers before her own ears were tweaked.

* * *

_"It’s … it's alright, they aren't going to hurt you." Geralt tried to ease the girl off his lap but she clung on desperately to him._

_Jaskier and Yennefer exchanged skeptical looks. The bard sighed sadly, "I knew it, I'm much too hideous to approach, she won't even look at me! Oh what a horrid wretch I am!" He flung a forearm across his eyes and leaned back comically._

_Ciri blinked at the bard who then pretended to almost lose his balance and wobbled forward several paces. She giggled softly despite her earlier fear._

_Jaskier bent down, hands on knees, "What a beautiful smile! You grace me with your radiance, m'Lady, I'm so very pleased to make your acquaintance."_

_The little girl reached out tentatively and took Jaskier's hand when it was offered, giggling again when the bard kissed the back of her hand._

_Geralt smiled warmly and shifted Ciri's weight, "I told you, they won't hurt you."_

_Yennefer watched the proceedings with a cynical frown, this seemed too… something… she put her hands on her hips and huffed, "are we making camp or not? It's getting dark!"_

_Ciri's eyes widened suddenly and she clung to Geralt, "I don't like the dark."_

_"Neither do I so with a will, hm?" Yennefer muttered, looking about the darkening forest._

_Ciri stayed very close to Geralt though she seemed alright enough to help Jaskier with dinner. The girl wolfed down two portions of their rations, her belly even bulged slightly and she fell fast asleep against Geralt’s chest as the fire burned in the night._

* * *

Geralt stared at the ring in the darkness as it pulsed with light . . . he stared and the pain dug in deeper, he gripped the pillow tighter and ground his teeth, the hollow spot in his chest ached . . . He flung the blankets off and grabbed the ring, he held it up to throw it out the window as it pulsed and vibrated in his hand. Geralt’s breath caught and he put it back down carefully, watching the ring for a few more seconds then he slowly got dressed and went downstairs, leaving the ring behind.

“Where are you off to?” Vesemir asked as Geralt entered the hall, “I assume you’re going somewhere if you’re up this early.”

“I need work. I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t do something.” Geralt shook his head, “Anything, a griffin, a pack of wolves, an ill-tempered beaver, _anything_!”

“Geralt,” Vesemir sat up more, “Go. Home.”

Geralt frowned, “ . . . I _am_ home.”

“No,” Vesemir shook his head, “You’ve chosen this as your hiding place, this isn’t your home right now, it’s a prison you made for yourself. Go home, Geralt, go back to wherever it was you left your heart.”

Geralt shook his head, “I _can’t_! I told you that!”  
“Can’t or won’t?” Vesemir cocked his head, “You’re so certain of this prophecy, why?”

Geralt blinked and clenched his jaw, “It’s . . . a feeling I have . . . a sense of doom . . . it keeps me up at night and haunts my steps . . . Ciri started having dreams about us each being chased by beasts of shadow and now I’ve seen this ‘death with a face’, heard it’s scream and I knew that we couldn’t just hide or run away, we had to face it and-”

“It frightened you.” Vesemir finished, getting slowly to his feet and moved to throw a log on the hearth.

Geralt didn’t answer right away then he looked into the flames as they rose back up, “ . . . what if I _do_ fail? Why would I betray her? Why would I ever run from a fight when I would die for her again and again? Why did I . . . ?” He slowly looked at Vesemir, “No.”

“No?” Vesemir looked at him without any surprise.

“No!” Geralt shouted at the fire, “No! I’m not a coward, I’m a fucking Witcher! I’m Geralt of Rivia!” He glared at the flames then turned it on Vesemir, “I’m the Wolf and so what if I kneel at their feet? Better advantage to spring an attack! I’ll rip their masks from their face if they lay a finger on her! I’ll- . . . “ He stopped and blinked, “I have to go home.”

Vesemir nodded, “The pass will be open in a week or two then-”

“No. Now.” Geralt turned and hurried up to his old room and scooped the ring up, shoved it on his pinky finger (the only one it would fit) and swallowed before whispering, “ _Jaskier . . . Yennefer . . . anyone there_?”

There was a soft buzzing then- “ _. . . Geralt?_ ”

“Jaskier! I’m here.” Geralt murmured, “I’m coming home.”

“ . . . “

Geralt frowned, “I’ll . . . I’ll need to know where you are.”

“ . . . “

Geralt shifted, the ring was still glowing and he furrowed his brow, “Jask?”

“ . . . go fuck yourself.” The ring pulsed then went dark.

Geralt blinked at it, tapping the stone lightly, “Jask? Jaskier? _Fuck_!” he stuffed the chain back around his neck and groaned, stomping back downstairs.

Vesemir looked up, “So . . . you’re going to dig your way to the mountain base?”

“No . . . “ Geralt muttered bitterly, “I’ll wait to see if anything changes then I’ll go down and find them.”

“How? You don’t know where they are.”

Geralt rolled his eyes, “The old fashioned way, I’ll _look_ for them!”

* * *

Jaskier laid in bed staring at the ceiling as the washroom door opened and Yennefer stepped out in just her towel before dropping it and walking to the bed, she carefully set her candle on the bedside table and got under the covers. The bard watched her slide over to him and he lifted his arm for her, “Yen?”

“Hm?” Yennefer murmured, her fingertips sliding over his chesthair.

“ . . . do you do what I do?” Jaskier murmured, closing his eyes and enjoying her touches making their across his chest and down to his stomach.

“What do you do, Jaskier?”

“When you’re hurt because of someone . . . you try to put someone else there until the hurt stops . . ? Do you do that?” He swallowed thickly as a small hand pushed his thighs apart, Jaskier closed his eyes.

“No. I don’t.” Yennefer murmured in his ear, mouthing the lobe gently, “Why? Did you find someone to take a space?”

“No . . . I didn’t, usually it does but this time . . . “ Jaskier breathed in sharply as she slid to straddle him, “This time I still hurt . . . “

Yennefer bent over and kissed him slowly, her lips still sweet from the lipstick, “Is it easier for you? To avoid the pain?”

“I’m only mortal.” Jaskier murmured, looking up at her in the flickering candlelight, his eyes slowly taking in her every curving line. His fingers soon followed and he stroked his fingertips over her jaw to her cheek, “I don’t like pain.”

“Don’t you?” Yennefer asked softly, her own hands trailing lazily over Jask’s torso in a familiar kind of way.

“Not this kind.” Jaskier said softly and he looked off to the side, “I heard from him.”

Yennefer froze, “Did you?”

“He said he’s coming home.” Jaskier mumbled, gauging her reactions.

“ . . . let’s not discuss this right now.” Yennefer leaned over him and they kissed.

Jaskier arched toward the kiss, his fingers sinking into her long hair and he made a soft noise, he broke it and sat back, “Yen?”

“Hm?” Yennefer shifted lower, kissing his hip.

“ . . . what are you and Geralt going to do after I die?” He asked suddenly.

Yennefer lifted her head, “What do you mean? Planning on throwing yourself into a river?” she moved back to the pillows and laid next to him, brow furrowed in concern.

“No, but I don’t exactly plan on getting old either and well . . . “ Jaskier shrugged, “I think about it sometimes.”

Yennefer frowned, “You’re not that o-”

“I- . . . Yen,” Jaskier propped himself up on his elbow, frowning at her, “I’m thirty-six, by all rights my life is half over . . . if I'm lucky.”

Yennefer blinked at him, “ . . . how?”

Jaskier shrugged, “I was born thirty-six years ago?”

“No, but I mean . . . you look really good for your age.” Yennefer sat up.

“I masturbate a lot.” Jaskier offered, “I don’t know, Yen, I don’t know why I look good for my age but I am not a very young man. Sometimes I feel my age . . . “

They stared at each other and Yennefer shook her head, “Well that has to stop right now.”

“What does?” Jaskier frowned.

“This stupid aging business of yours.” She frowned and tapped her chin, “There has to be a way for regular people.”

“Nothing savory or ethical, I’m sure. Yen, please don’t try to artificially lengthen my life, I’m begging you.” Jaskier shook his head, “I only ask what you’ll do after I’m gone?”

Yennefer sighed and pulled him under the duvet just as the candle was about to go out, “I don’t know and I don’t want to think about it, let’s go to sleep.”

“I’m sorry, did I ruin things?” Jaskier whispered, tucking her into his chest.

“No . . . no, I’m just cold.” Yennefer whispered back, closing her eyes.

“Oh, here.” Jaskier pulled a second blanket over them and bundled Yennefer closer to him, “How’s that?”

Yennefer nodded slowly, “better . . . Dammit all, but I do miss him . . . “

Jaskier sighed, “ . . . me too . . . “

“I’ll talk to him, you don’t have to say anything, don’t worry.” Yennefer hugged Jaskier tightly.

Jaskier nodded once and tried to go to sleep.

* * *

Ciri sat in her little dormitory with the other children at the school, she was holding Jaskier’s ring tightly, she’d fished it out of the pond after the bard had thrown it. The girl slipped it on her finger and the ring pulsed with a steady light. Ciri’s eyes shimmered slightly to a deep green and she breathed in, “ _Geralt . . . Geralt . . . Geralt . . . “_

But there was no answer, as usual.


End file.
